


Make Out

by ukrainianironbelly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Fluff, HPCC Compliant, HPCC Valentine, Harry Potter Next Generation, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 14:04:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10111934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ukrainianironbelly/pseuds/ukrainianironbelly
Summary: As Valentine's Day approaches, all anyone at Hogwarts seems to be doing is snogging. Albus finds this infuriating.





	

Albus rounds the corner - and almost trips backwards in an effort to unsee what he’s just seen.

His cousin, Rose, is basically eating Yann Fredericks’ face. They detach themselves from each other with a rather disgusting, wet sound, and spare him a glance, before going right back to making out.

Eugh. 

Albus doesn’t have to walk far before he comes across another couple going at it. 

By the time he has managed to traverse the distance from the Astronomy Tower to the Slytherin dungeons, Albus has come across seven more couples, and plenty of disgustingly pink decorations. He slams into the dungeon in an excessively bad mood - only to see the Head Girl, Victoria Aquila, in the lap of the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, Marcus Reed. 

He could positively vomit.

He tries to corral a table to himself in the corner of the common room, but soon enough, two fourth-years sit down across him. Supposedly, they’re studying, but the boy - Anthony something - keeps sneaking peeks at the girl when he thinks she’s not looking (she totally is). Eventually, this evolves to them playing footsie under the table - which Albus realizes when the girl’s foot accidentally knocks against his own.

He stands straight up, glaring forbiddingly at the two red-faced fourth-years. It’s rather revolting, really. It’s only February 13th, and straight people are already going mad. 

Albus abandons any plans of doing homework in the common room, and goes straight to bed. He toys with the thought of waiting up for Scorpius to come back from the library, to tell him how irritating people have been today.

At the end of it, though, he feels some sort of unnameable hesitance to talk to Scorpius about all of this. Snogging. Couples. Valentine’s Day. These are...topics that they’ve always avoided, really.

 

\--x--

 

“Albus?”

“Albus…”

Albus rolls awake wearily, blinking and focusing on Scorpius’ face. His tie is dangling in Albus’ face. Albus swats it away.

“Whuh?”

“Are you...planning to come to Potions?” Scorpius smiles. “It’s 7:45.”

“Fuck!” He must have forgotten to set his alarm. Albus fights off his covers and leaps out of bed, almost losing his boxers in the process.

 

\--x--

 

They make it to Potions on time, but they’re horribly, horribly hungry throughout. Their stomachs keep grumbling, embarrassingly loud. Albus is certain that Professor Shafiq notices, but thankfully, he doesn’t comment, beyond an irritated raise of his eyebrows. Either way, there are other things occupying his attention. Little enchanted Valentine’s Day cards, shaped like birds, keep zooming through the windows and doors, dispersing perfume and pink glitter throughout the classroom before they land on the intended’s desk. Each card sets off a spate of giggles and gossip, and by the end of it, Shafiq is quite at the end of his tether.

Albus feels worst that Scorpius skipped breakfast because of him, and once class is over, he doesn’t stay, as he usually does, to grill Professor Shafiq about the topics he covered - in today’s case, the uses of Occamy feathers - but drags Scorpius toward the Hufflepuff dungeons. 

“Where are we going?,” Scorpius asks.

“Kitchens,” Albus replies. An excellent advantage of sixth year is the abundance of free periods - supposedly for studying, but nobody really uses them for that before the end of the year. “We can get something to eat,  _ finally _ .”

“You know, if you’d woken up in time, we would be able to use this free period to study.”

Albus snorts, feeling secretly fond. “Free periods aren’t for studying, Scorpius.”

Scorpius looks indignant. “Yes, they are, Albus! You know, it was okay to be unserious until now, but our NEWTs are coming up. They’ll decide our career prospects! Everyone else will get an edge over us - ”

Albus rolls his eyes, a grin cracking his face for the first time that day. “Trust me, Scorpius,  _ nobody _ is using these free periods to study.”

“Oh really?,” Scorpius challenges. “What’s everyone else using them for, then?”

“Snogging,” Albus deadpans. “And I think most people already have more than an edge over us in that department, to be honest.” They’ve reached the portrait of the fruit basket, and Albus tickles the pear and tugs the door open.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy!” The house elves accost them, zooming platters of food behind them.

When Albus glances at him, Scorpius is oddly quiet and oddly pink.

 

\--x--

 

He doesn’t stay quiet long. Scorpius has never been good at holding in his thoughts.

“Albus?,” he asks, as they’re walking back to the Slytherin dungeons. Albus is irritatedly noticing that the corridors are full of canoodling couples, in every alcove and nook.

“Hmm?” Albus looks up from the pasty he’s been munching on. Scorpius is staring determinedly at the floor.

“Er - why - why do you think that is?” Scorpius is still faintly pink.

“What?,” Albus asks, quite lost. They had been discussing Quidditch over lunch. “Why Brazil won the World Cup? I told you, it’s because they have Flores - ” 

“No! Er - why do you think other people have more...experience in the snogging department?” Scorpius is very pink now.

Albus, feeling quite warm around the ears himself, laughs helplessly. Oh. So that’s what it is. “Er - guess we never - really tried?”

“ _ You _ didn’t,” Scorpius points out. “I’ve tried plenty - with Rose.”

“Well, that’s one girl,” Albus retorts. “There are so many more in the world, Scorpius, who’ll really appreciate how amazing you are - “

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Scorpius interrupts. “How come  _ you _ haven’t tried? It wouldn’t be - hard - for you. You - I mean, girls would love to snog you. I think.” 

He’s bright red now. Albus would be alarmed about his colouring, if he wasn’t sure he was purple himself. He stuffs his hands in his pockets. They’re getting sweaty. 

Well. This conversation had to happen someday. Albus is just afraid he will blurt out more than he means to. He considers how to say it simply and succinctly.

_ Scorpius, I’m pretty sure I’m gay. _

_ Scorpius, I’m gay. _

_ Scorpius, I’m gay, and hopelessly in love with you and have always been since we first met and there’s nothing I want to do more than snog you senseless today, and I want to take you out to Hogsmeade and I want to hold hands with you - _

No, that’s too much.

Scorpius is staring expectantly at him. They’ve come to a stop outside the Slytherin dungeon’s wall.

Albus clears his throat. “Er - well - girls don’t like me much, if you haven’t noticed.”

Merlin, what a fail. He turns miserably to the wall and mutters the password (“Cliodna”). The common room, he notes, once again, is full to the brim of snogging couples.

“That’s really not true,” Scorpius mutters. “I meant it - girls talk about you - and you’re quite good-looking.”

Albus scratches the back of his neck, self-conscious. He doesn’t want Scorpius’ platitudes; they’re rather a sore spot, really, given his embarrassing, stupid crush on his best friend. And he  _ really _ does not want to have this conversation now. He climbs up the stairs to their dormitory as fast as he can. Scorpius is following behind, he notices, with equal determination.

“So, how come?” Scorpius asks.

“How come  _ what _ ?” Albus responds, exasperated.

“How come you haven’t ever snogged anyone?”

“Why is it  _ your _ problem?,” Albus snaps, finally wheeling around to face Scorpius, who, he is surprised to find, is alarmingly close - and rather taller than him. “If you want to snog someone, go right ahead!”

“I don’t want to snog anyone!” Scorpius exclaims. Albus wonders if he will ever recover from being that shade of pink.

“Okay, so leave the topic well enough alone,” Albus says, stomping into the room. “Just because everyone else feels socially obligated to snog anyone they can get their hands on, doesn’t mean we should too!”

“I’m not  _ saying _ that,” Scorpius says, sounding wounded. “When have I ever cared about what other people say or do?”

Albus quiets, remorseful. “Sorry,” he mutters. “I know.”

He and Scorpius settle themselves across from each other on Scorpius’ bed, their usual position for when they have important talks.

Scorpius sighs. “No, it’s okay - I just - well, I just - ”

He’s struggling to get something out. 

“Don’t you ever wonder what it’s like?,” he finally bursts out.

“What?,” Albus says blankly.

“What kissing is like,” Scorpius says, bright red again. “Don’t you ever wonder?”

“Er - well, yeah.” Albus clears his throat, staring at Scorpius’ green bedsheets, which he worries between his fingers. “Obviously.”

He wonders rather a lot, really. Specifically, how it would be like to kiss one particular person.

“Me too,” Scorpius spills out, relieved. “Good. I’m glad I’m not the only one. I mean, not that I obsess about it, obviously, but I do wonder, you know. Isn’t it weird? I mean, you’re just - tasting another person’s mouth for a bit, really. How is that supposed to be nice? But at the same time, it seems nice, somehow. I think I’d like to do it, but I don’t know how to find someone to do it with - ”

“Okay, I get it!,” Albus bursts out. He thinks he might explode if he listens to Scorpius, the object of his affections, go on about kissing. “Scorpius, I’m sure you’ll find someone to kiss, sooner rather than later. Don’t worry about it. It’s just this crazy holiday - it’s making us all pair up like rabbits.”

“I don’t think that’s what the simile is supposed to say,” Scorpius says, trying to suppress a smile but failing. Albus goes red, his heart thrumming a little bit. For some reason, he notices, Scorpius is blushing too. He can’t help it, he bursts out laughing, and Scorpius soon joins in. 

In the middle of their laughter, however, Scorpius turns to him and earnestly says - “Albus, what if we tried it?”

“Tried what?,” Albus says, still sniggering.

“Kissing. Do you want to try kissing?”

Albus is still. 

“Er - how?,” he asks, cautious and quiet.

“Well. You know. We kiss. We put our mouths together - ”

“Kiss - you?,” Albus says hoarsely, feeling weak. 

“Um - yes,” Scorpius says, looking nervous. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his straight nose, a sure sign of anxiety. “I - I understand if you don’t want to. I just - I wanted to try it with somebody - to see how it felt. And - well, I guess you seemed like the obvious choice. Being my best friend and all. But if you don’t want to, just say so.”

Albus’ head is spinning. He takes in the sight of his best friend sitting right next to him - really the first time he’s allowed himself to look fully at Scorpius since the terrible, devastating moment in fifth year when he realized how he felt for him. Scorpius’ grey eyes, flickering between the ground and Albus. His cheeks, pink; his chin, slightly stubbly. His shoulders, slight and hunched, and his tie, loose. His blonde hair, ruffled from the February wind, but looking impossibly silky, a silk Albus would like to run his hands through. And his pale pink mouth.

For months, as they have sat here right here like this every day, Albus has thought about how there’s nothing he would like to do more than kiss Scorpius. And here he is, asking to be kissed.

It’s like there’s a tennis ball in his throat.

Albus realizes, somewhere dimly in the back of his mind, that he should say no. That this is a really stupid decision that will backfire terribly. 

That doesn’t stop him from nodding slowly at Scorpius’ wide, anxious eyes, and leaning forward. He reaches up one tentative hand and puts it against Scorpius’ face, and presses his lips against his.

It’s nothing like what he had imagined, when he had allowed himself to imagine it. When he had imagined it, he hadn’t imagined Scorpius’ breath hitching. Scorpius’ lips warm and moving against his. Scorpius’ hands threading into his hair. Albus’ heart is thudding so hard, he believes it might fly out of his chest.

It could have been a minute, or several days, before they separate. Albus wouldn’t know. The two boys stare at each other, wide-eyed, before Scorpius dives in for another kiss, leaving Albus gasping out of surprise.

They’re silent. Albus has no idea what’s going on in Scorpius’ head, but he does know what’s going on in his - panic, and confusion. What the flying fuck did he just do??

It’s up to him to fix this, he decides. Make some jokey comment about them having finally gotten their first kiss. “Er -”

Before he can say anything, Scorpius reaches out and threads his fingers through his. 

Albus’ heart is thundering again. He stares at their intertwined hands: Scorpius’ pale, longer fingers against his hand. His had had seemed like an exceedingly ordinary appendage prior to this moment, but now it seems to be thrumming with nerve endings. Scorpius tightens his grip.

Albus looks up at Scorpius, helpless, and the moment they lock eyes, grey against green, something seems to strengthen within Scorpius.

“Albus - ” he says. “Will you be my valentine?”

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to write something for HPCC Valentine on tumblr a month ago. This is that something. I'm not very good at these challenges, I think.
> 
> If y'all want insight into my ~*creative process*~, go listen to Julia Nunes' song, Make Out, which I listened to extensively while writing this!
> 
> Hope you enjoy; comments and kudoses make my day!


End file.
